


One Beep Means Trouble, Two Beeps Means Sherlock

by Anihan (Nakagami)



Series: Any Kink You Can Kink, I Can Kink Better [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: comment!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-15
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-07 22:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakagami/pseuds/Anihan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holding a minor position in the British government enables Mycroft a lot of room for forgiveness: After all, if nobody dies then it is probably still a good day. Unfortunately, after receiving the bill for his brother's most recent shopping trip, this well of forgiveness will undoubtedly be tested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Beep Means Trouble, Two Beeps Means Sherlock

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [That Man, The Other One, Those Shoes, And Raoul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/433555) by [Random_Nexus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Nexus/pseuds/Random_Nexus). 



Mycroft sighs at the sound of a double beep from his PA's BlackBerry. That it makes noise at all implies urgency, but it is the second beep that causes Mycroft his moment of outward weakness: It was Sherlock, of course. Who else could it be? There's a moment of utter defeat in Mycroft's heart-- not that a hint of it makes it to his face or posture --but he regroups with surprising ease, turning back to the representative of the terrorist cell he had been "reading" for information.

With a roll of her shoulders, Anthea loosens her posture, pretending to pay even less attention to the interrogation. Now came the scare tactic, the moment when Mycroft revealed a few of his findings and warned the prisoner, a bit, just how utterly fucked she was.

Mycroft clears his throat, taking a moment to pull out a little black book and write down a few words. Then he holds it up in front of the captive woman's face.

The name and address of her older brother. The name and hometown of her boss. Her last three email passwords.

The prisoner begins to tremble.

Mycroft straightens and turns to address his PA. "There was no scheduled assassination: It was an entirely empty threat. Please see to Ms. Dahlen's comfort while her associates are being tracked down. The trial can wait until all four -- oh?" He raises an eyebrow, studying the captive's expression. "One's been captured by someone else already. No matter. The trial can wait until all four are either confirmed deceased or are in custody."

"Sir." Anthea doesn't say anything else. The two of them depart from the room and a team of handlers file in, already briefed on the outcome of the situation through Anthea's constant stream of text messages.

Out in the hall, Anthea remains quiet. Without a word spoken between them, Mycroft takes her phone and scrolls through everything he had missed during the...interview.

A bill for nearly £600 had been charged to one of his personal credit cards; £574, to be precise, the numbers a specific message that could be decoded with a simple telephone: LSH.

Love Sherlock Holmes.

Groaning internally, Mycroft returned the phone to his PA. Anthea raised an eyebrow. "He sent a picture, too, sir." She opened the picture message that Mycroft had purposefully ignored and showed him.

It was then that Mycroft realized Sherlock had learned more than just anatomy from Ms. Adler.

But, well. At least he'd bought the corset on his own dime.

Beep-beep.


End file.
